JAMIE
Sebastian, Carter, and I take up a booth at the Brumehill Diner. Our two missing roommates are the topic of the conversation we’re having over coffee and half-eaten sandwiches.
“You know how Veikko is,” Carter is saying. “Try to get him to talk about anything he doesn’t want to, and he clams up.”
Sebastian sighs. “I really thought they’d have worked out whatever it is they’re fighting about by now. Felix is … well, he’s Felix, but he’s the last guy I would have expected to hold a grudge. And he seems more pissed off at Veikko than Veikko is at him. Veikko’s just avoiding him.”
Carter shakes his head, pondering. “Part of me still thinks it’s over a girl.”
“I haven’t seen Felix with a girl in weeks,” I say. “Which is weird by itself.”
“I’ve actually spotted Veikko having drinks or lunches with girls way more often than usual,” Sebastian says. “But … it’s weird. He always has this pained look on his face, like he’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Maybe that’s just Veikko being his socially awkward self?” Carter proposes.
“Maybe,” Sebastian answers, “but these times it’s just looked … different. I don’t know how to describe it. Almost like he’s being forced to be on these dates. Or forcing himself. I don’t know what’s going on with either of those guys right now.”
“Should we do an intervention or something?” Carter asks.
I scrunch my lips in thought. “That could backfire. This whole thing between them feels like a powder keg. Do we want to make it worse? At least they were able to basically coexist on the ice last game.”
“Barely,” Carter mumbles.
“If they play as badly together as they did in that Dartmouth game, Coach will have to bench one of them,” Sebastian says.
“And it’ll be Veikko he benches. We can afford to lose a D Man more than we can afford to lose our goalie,” I reason out. “He’ll probably promote Dexter from second line, and we’ll have to play together on defense.” I breathe out a sigh. “But our timing is always off in practice. For some reason, we never gel as a duo. It’ll be a shit show one way or the other, unless those two get their heads screwed on right.”
“I’ll try to talk to Felix again,” Sebastian says with a forlorn note. He stands up and puts some cash for his check down on the table. “I have to get to class. See you guys.”
Carter has an appointment, too, so we all head out together. I don’t have any classes for the rest of the day, so I head to a place that’s become my favorite destination: Carmen’s apartment.
As much as the mysterious issue between Veikko and Felix has been weighing on me, both because it’s putting our season in jeopardy and because I care about them as friends, it washes away with the rest of my cares as I get closer to Carmen’s place. When I’m with her, everything feels right with the world.
Contentment swells in my chest when Carmen opens the door for me and lets me in. My gaze catches on a new bouquet of flowers standing in a vase on her kitchen counter.
“Did my gift before we went bowling awaken your inner florist?” I ask, going over to take a sniff of them. They’re nice.
“Oh, those? They’re just something one of the regulars gave me at work. As a little gift.”
Instantly, the floral scent turns bitter in my nose. The muscles on my neck and shoulders go taut, and a dark feeling spills through my chest. “One of the regulars?” The question rasps through the tightness in my throat.
“Yeah,” Carmen answers breezily. “This one guy who comes in all the time. He’s really nice. He told me he saw that bouquet at the flower shop on Magnolia Street and they made him think of me, so he bought them.”
Carmen tells the story as cool and casual as can be, as if every word isn’t making my hand clench into a tighter fist, flooding me with a feeling that churns my stomach.
I turn to her, feeling the unaccustomed blaze of fire in my eyes. “Who?” I bark out the question.
Surprise flashes in her coffee-dark eyes. “Who?” she repeats my question.
I take a step closer to her. Partially because I feel like if I remain within arm’s reach of these fucking flowers, I might grab the vase and hurl it against the wall.
“Was it that fucker with the brown hair and glasses who always tries to talk to you? Or that new graduate assistant who grades papers at Last Word just to steal glances at you the whole time he’s there? Or that townie asshole who puts too much gel in his hair and only leaves a tip when you’re the one who serves him?”
Carmen still looks surprised, her lips parted in a pink circle. A circle I’d love to fill with my cock, to show her that no one, leastof all whichever fucker is buying her flowers behind my back, can give her what I can give her.
“You noticed those people?” she asks.
I nod. The muscles arcing along my shoulders and neck are so tight that the motion is stiff.
